Chapter 3: The Man from the other side

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MCPD

12-7-03

4:45PM

In the thirty five minutes that had passed since he had gotten back, Vince had began writing the report on the evidence he found and almost died of boredom reliving the moment. He included in the report the time he left, the time he got to the storage warehouse, the time he left the warehouse, and the time he got back to the precinct. He described the inside, including the power failure, and especially, the card he found on which was written, "The Matrix Has You." All of the important details, the literal stuff that anyone who needed the information would have some use for.

What he didn't include though, was that it felt as if he was being watched by unseen eyes. That feeling that creeped him out and caused him to take his gun from his holster. He thought it over as he typed and wondered: Am I still being watched?. He shrugged it off. Stop scaring yourself. That always happens when you feel spooked but can't see anything, he convinced himself. He looked at his screen and all of the black text against the white screen. The blinking cursor, blinking every second. The font control, the spacing. Nodding, he decided he was finished with the report. Saving it, he sat back in the chair and exhaled through his lips, his cheeks puffing up only until all of the air/carbon dioxide was out of his mouth.

He looked out of the windows surrounding him to see what was up. Then he noticed something, something he never saw before. Three men came to the upstairs floor and entered Howard's office. To Vince, they looked like secret service agents back from the 1960's, dressed in black suits, with generic black dress shoes. Under their jackets were white dress shirts, and black ties, pinned to their shirts via a silver pin with simple horizontal line design.

They all wore their hair parted at their left, and they all wore white earpieces in their right ear, the coiled wire hanging down beside their neck and then being tucked in under their white shirts. The most notable and possibly intimidating feature of their outfits were the the square framed sunglasses they all wore, the lenses shaded black to the point where you couldn't see their eyes or tell if they were looking for you. But that wasn't the case for Vince. He saw Howard look in his direction and point towards his office, and the three of their heads turned; They were looking at him alright. It wasn't until they exited Howard's office and started towards his own that he started to worry.

Okay, he thought, What have I done lately that would get the Feds on my case... haven't shot anyone... haven't blown anything up, no car accidents.. oh shit, here they come. The three men entered the office and stood in line from side to side, the one in the center a step in front of the other two. They all stood at at least six feet tall even. The one in the middle spoke.

"Mr. Burnett, I'm Agent Williams, these are my colleagues, Agent Davis and Agent Miller," he said, the other two nodding smugly as their names were mentioned.

Vince stood up from sitting in his chair to see eye to eye with the man, standing at least two feet from him. "Hi," he said wearily. "Something I can help you with?"

"Yes, as a matter of fact there is, Mr. Burnett." Agent Williams said. He spoke in a bold, direct tone, he didn't drag on any words or speak slow or fast, rather, at a steady rate, almost as though he were a robot. "We understand that you've been tracking an individual named Irvine for the past year and you haven't gained any leads on him until recently when a Mr. Daniel Lancaster went missing."

"Yeah, that's true..." Vince replied, in a skeptical tone. This news traveled fast for something that happened only so recently. "What about him?"

"Well, we understand he has charges of murder, kidnap, and drug use against him and currently there is a warrant out for his arrest and that you're the Detective who's been put on the case. We were wondering if you had seen anything unusual lately."

Vince recalled the warehouse and the white card. "No, nothing unusual. Why?"

Agent Williams took a breathe of air and sighed as if he realized he would be staying longer than he had planned. "The truth is, Mr. Burnett, this character Irvine is far more dangerous than he seems, especially according to the way you have him listed down in your files. Compared to your records, he is far worse than he appears. And of course, we all know appearances can be deceiving."

Vince raised an eyebrow at his last statement. "Yeah..What's he really like?"

"To make a long story short, the man is a known terrorist that has his own group of sorts that works with him. You are aware of the shoot outs that have been taking place all over the city, are you not?"

"Yeah, I've heard of them, they turn up from out of nowhere. Is he involved with those too?"

"Yes, actually, he is involved. A great threat to the public, and he isn't the only one." He swallowed, and took a moment to turn his head towards Agent Davis and Agent Miller. "However, we have a more important subject to talk about while we're here."

"Oh, yeah? What's that?"

"We'd like to ask you for your help Mr. Burnett, in tracking this Irvine down and helping us take him into custody."

"Yeah, I think I can do that. Is there any specific procedures to follow?"

"Here's my number, Mr. Burnett. If any new information about him turns up, you know where to contact me." Agent Williams said, holding out a small white business card. Vince took it and looked at the phone number. It read (843) 797-8360. He looked back up at Agent Williams and nodded. "Yeah, sure, I can help."

"Thank you for your cooperation Mr. Burnett. We look forward to hearing from you in the future." Agent Williams concluded. The three men turned, and exited the office, walking toward the stairs. Vince looked back at the card for a moment and looked back to the three Agents. He called after them.

"What If something about the Matrix turns up?"

The three Agents froze in their steps. Vince's eyebrows raised, he took this in as if he just said something that was very insulting to them, and this now was the reaction. They all looked back in his direction. He narrowed his eyes and frowned slightly as though to analyze their reactions.

"The what?" Agent Williams asked.

"The Matrix...at the last known location Lancaster and Irvine were known to be at, I found this card that said 'The Matrix Has You', and we figured Irvine was linked to it. What should I do if anything about the Matrix turns up again?"

They looked at each other like they were deciding what to do about this. Agent Davis's right hand came to his right hand ear over his ear piece. Then, he looked over to Agent Williams and Agent Miller and nodded. Miller looked to Williams.

"He's planning another unplugging."

"He will be back."

"We can use this to finally get him."

Vince watched and listened to this and thought Maybe I should have kept my mouth shut about the Matrix..sounds like they've been looking for him for a while too though.

Agent Willaims looked back over to Vince. "Mr. Burnett, would you please come take a ride with us?"

"Um.." Vince manged to get out, as he tried to think of a reason to not to go. He looked at his computer. He'd finished the report. The only idea he could think of was Howard. "I just have to let my boss know."

"He's already aware that you may be stepping out with us. It will only be brief."

Vince's eyes shifted from Agent to Agent and he stayed silent for a moment. They stared back at him through their sunglasses. It didn't really seem like he had a choice. "Yeah, sure. Let's go."

Agent Davis lead the way, followed by Agent Williams, Vince, and then Agent Miller. They made their way downstairs and towards the exit. Vince looked towards the front desk where Simpson would be, but he wasn't there. Where'd Simpson go? Must be on a piss break. Eventually they made their way outside and into a black sedan parked in front of the precinct.

Vince and Agent Williams climbed into the back, while Agent Davis drove and Agent Miller sat in the front seat. They pulled away slowly and drove down the street at a regular speed. Vince looked around the car and out of the windows, seeing familiar buildings he would pass on the way to work, only this time in the reverse order. He looked over to the Agents. They all were looking forward with their hands in their lap, except for Davis, who was driving with his hands at ten and two.

Things were too quiet. "Where are we going?" he asked. "It's nothing to be concerned of. We're almost there." Agent Miller answered. About ten minutes passed, and they drove into an underground parking lot. They parked on a level that had a moderate amount of cars in it, Vince observed. The ignition was turned off. "Please step out of the car," Agent Williams said, and the three men exited the car. After seeing all of their doors opened and noting the fact that they all were moving out of the car at the same time, he opened his door and stepped out, closing it behind him. Miller and Williams made their way around to the side of the car Davis and Vince were on, and then they all stood in front of Vince, like they were cornering him. Davis was to his right, Miller to the left, and Williams in the center. Noticing that they were moving toward him and that he was stepping backwards, he got concerned. "Hey, guys. What are you doing?" Then things got rough.

Davis and Miller violently shoved him at his shoulders and sent him back, hitting up against the car door. "Hey, what the fuck are you--" he managed to get out, but was cut off when Davis grabbed his face and his right arm and held him against the car. He turned his head so that the right side faced out to the Agents, and got a tight grip, configuring his fingers in a manner so Vince couldn't open his mouth enough to get any noise out at a significant volume.

Miller grabbed his left arm and held it up against the car with the same painfully tight grip. Twitching under their hold, Vince couldn't move. Williams pulled out from the pocket inside of his jacket a small silver box and opened it, pulling out of it a small dark gray object that was two inches long. "We apologize for the procedure, Mr. Burnett. But in the end, you'll be doing us a favor." Looking as far right as he possibly could, Vince saw Williams push a small button on the object. A red light lit up, and he thought it saw it shake at first. Then, many little spike like objects broke out from the sides of the object, and they too began to move, and it all together started squirming. It looked like a small robotic centipede.

Williams held it out and moved it closer to Vince's head. He started moving about, trying to escape, but to no avail, his efforts were futile. He tried to scream but could only let out a low grumble. Williams held the centipede over his right ear, and let go. Vince felt it drop into his ear and begin to squirm and wiggle it's way inside of his head. He started to freak out, moving and kicking violently and putting out as loud of a noise he could muster.

He screamed out loud as he jumped up in his bed. Cheryl jumped up next to him, scared out of her sleep. Vince sat there with no shirt on, and the rest of his body covered by the comforter. In a cold sweat, he panted for air as if he was holding his breath under the water for too long. He looked around the room frantically, trying to place himself, letting out small yells as he calmed down, each more quiet than the one before it until it reduced to a heavy breathing. Cheryl came to him and put her arms around him. She ran her right hand through his hair and placed her left hand on his chest.

"Vince! Vince, are you alright?"

"Wh-what...where, where am I?"

"Vince, it's me Cheryl, you were having a bad dream. You're here, home in bed."

"..Huh? A dream? No, I..I was at work, and the three guys, the feds, Williams, and Davis, and Miller. They put some thing in my ear, and.."

"No no, you're fine. You scared the shit out me."

His senses came back to him, he felt her bare breasts upon his left arm. He looked down to them, and then up into her eyes. Still breathing heavily, he looked over to the alarm clock beside his bed. It said 10:36. He frowned. "10:36? It was about a quarter to five when I left the office. When did I get home?"

"You came home around eight o'clock and said you were tired and we went to bed."

"Eight? What?" He couldn't remember walking in. "What did we do?"

"Well, we didn't go to sleep right away." She said in an implying tone. He raised his eyebrows. He didn't remember any sex either. Giving up, he shook his head. "It must have been a bad dream. Realistic to say the least, huh? You almost set off all the car alarms on the block." She said in a kidding voice.

"Have you ever had a dream where you couldn't tell if you were awake or in bed dreaming the whole thing?"

"What do you mean?"

"Like, it seems real, like this, right now, but you can't tell if you're dreaming or not. Kind of like when you have dreams and realize something was wrong and you were only in bed dreaming it up but you couldn't tell which one was a dream or not."

"Nope, never. You crazy head." She kissed his head on his temple and got up out of the bed. He looked over to her. Bare ass naked he registered. "Where are you going?" He asked. "To get a drink," she answered. He decided he had to use the bathroom. He moved his legs over the side of the bed and sat up, realized he was naked too. Hm.

He stood up and walked down the hallway into the bathroom. Standing over the toilet, he began to piss and sighed, feeling exhausted and tired. He looked into the mirror at his reflection. He looked tired, he could tell in the way his eyes looked. When he finished, he stepped over to the right and rinsed his hands in some warm water.

As he stepped out, in the corner of his eye, he saw the mirror, and in the mirror, he saw his left ear, and it reminded him of his dream. He stepped back into the bathroom and leaned over the counter. Leaning forward, he turned his head so the right side faced the mirror, enough so he could still see when he shifted his eyes as far right as possible. He tilted his head in several directions in the light, looking for anything unnatural, like scars, or a cut, or a tiny mechanic centipede. Sighing after finding nothing, he shook his head, and turned the light off. Walking back out into the hallway, he went back into the room and saw Cheryl waiting for him in the bed. "Hey tough guy," she greeted him with. "Hi babe," he mumbled as he walked around to his dresser. He started taking out clothes and getting dressed.

"Where are you going?" she asked.

"I gotta go take care of something work related."

She sighed. "All you do is think of work," she claimed.

"Go to sleep," he answered. "You expect me to track down a nightclub owner during the daytime?"

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11:14PM

Since he didn't want to waste time brewing up coffee as a stimulant, Vince popped a caffeine pill once he got into his car and drove off. Tonight, his destination was Guiness Lake, in the Barrens District. He had a few questions for Indigo, the man who ran the joint at Club Dante, where he always liked to hang around. Vince had gone to him a few times in the past for information, and he needed his help with that again.

Westview, as the Barrens were formally known, was by no means as good looking as its actual name sounded, hence its new nickname. While the Slums District Vince was in the other day had a dirty, run down and dilapidated look of Urban decay to it, it was suddenly of admirable quality when compared to the Barrens. Regardless of this, people still lived and spent time there. An average person would wonder why, but Vince knew that the type of activity that went down in the Barrens, especially this late at night, was no cleaner that the area was. This was why he was paying Indigo a visit, because he had a good feeling Indigo would know about this new red pill substance that had come up.

Parallel parking the sidewalk opposite the club's front entrance, Vince switched off the ignition and opened the door. Before he got up out of the car though, he checked his pistol, making sure it had a full magazine with an additional round in the chamber, as usual. He'd never had to pull a gun on Indigo or threaten him before, having a well established undercover identity. However, the local gang in Guiness Lake, calling itself "The King's Men," has a persistent presence in the club and the entire Guiness Lake area. They protected the place and acted as Indigo's muscle, among other things Vince didn't have much trouble imagining. He stepped up out of his car, and closed the door, neglecting to lock it. If someone wanted to steal it, they would anyway.

He stepped up to the front door and waited as the Bouncer gave him the once-over. One of the most important things about going undercover was dressing like you weren't a cop. Vince did this in style, managing to look good no matter what the occasion or the disguise. The Bouncer nodded in acknowledgment.

"Been a while, Janus," he said in a deep, albeit greeting tone.

"Time's not something I have a lot of these days."

"You're not the only one. I've seen some nice ones walk in tonight, you'll have a nice selection," the Bouncer said with a grin.

Janus cut to the chase. "I gotta talk to Indigo."

Suddenly the Bouncer was all business. "What about?"

"Business as usual, what else?"

The Bouncer considered it. After a moment, he pulled a radio from his waistband, motioning to a fellow member of the King's Men to guard the door.

"Janus is here to see Indigo, says he's gotta talk." A few seconds passed while the Bouncer waited for the answer.

"Send him in," said an anonymous voice over the radio. The Bouncer nodded, and stepped aside. "He's in the back."

Janus, as he was known in these circles, nodded and walked inside. It was his undercover alias when dealing with these types of characters. He found irony in the alias he'd chosen, being that Janus was a god with two faces, and that was the same situation this Janus was in. One of these faces was Vince, the Mega City PD Narcotics Unit Detective. The other, his underground alter-ego, Janus. Although this was an undercover thing, he had to admit to himself that he let the lines blur sometimes. He enjoyed it. As Janus, he felt like he was free, free from the systematic routine that ruled everyone's daily lives.

Inside, the club was dark as any nightclub would be, with flashing strobes creating all sorts of different light pattern designs all over the place. Along with this, the techno music, and the pounding bass to go along with it. It seemed like the only sort of music you'd hear in this city's clubs, but Janus didn't let it get to him. He just blended in, something he considered himself good at. As if on instinct, his eyes scanned the club and all of its patrons, trying to assess any immediate threat. Right away he could pick out the gang members of The King's Men, posted all over the club and noticeable. It was obvious that they did a better job at deterring trouble makers when they were seen rather than being subtle.

He directed his eyes to the back of the club near the VIP sections, and it was almost as if Indigo was waiting for Janus to see him, because when he saw Indigo, he was looking right at him. Decked out in an outfit that was black and charcoal grey in color, he would have been nearly invisible in the darkness. However, the beanie cap he wore on his head was what made him distinguishable, something he was always seen wearing. Of course, this all was complimentary to the chilling stare on his face. When Indigo realized Janus had recognized him, suddenly his facial expression changed to seeing someone he was fond of, but not necessarily someone he missed. Upon waving him over, Janus cut through the crowd and made it over to his table.

"Well well, Janus, you finally show your face around here after how long? Doesn't matter, have a seat."

Janus knew the warm welcome was total bullshit, but he sat down and acted like he was happy to be there regardless. As far as Indigo knew, Janus was a man who knew things as good as he did, so their network of traded information was mutually-dependable one.

"So, to what do I owe the occasion?" Indigo inquired. He took a puff of his cigar, which Janus registered was strawberry flavored. Curled up next to him was one of the nice selection of ladies the Bouncer had mentioned earlier. Janus looked over Indigo's attire once more.

"You know, I would have expected you to wear something with a little purple in it, since you go by the name."

"Haha, what are you here for Janus, to give me fashion tips or talk matters? Besides, you're confused, it's my sister Violet that wears the color all the time."

Janus nodded with a grin. "Right, right. Anyway, speaking of all this color bullshit," Janus began, a remark which made Indigo almost imperceptibly narrowed his eyes at as though he'd been insulted-- something Janus intended for, "There's a new drug being passed around that I don't know a source for. It's called 'the red pill,' you heard anything about it? Know where it's from, anything like that?"

Indigo seemed surprised at the mention of it, his eyebrows raising at the mere mention of the pill. Like Janus had reminded Indigo of something he knew very much about that hadn't crossed his mind in a while.

"The red pill, eh? Where'd this come up?"

Janus didn't like the way he'd put emphasis on the word red, but he didn't show it. "A friend of mine disappeared, and when I looked into it, it turned out that someone else was behind it. Said he'd give him the red pill."

"Is that right? Who's the other guy?"

"A guy who calls himself Irvine."

The look of familiarity on Indigo's face was so noticeable it was like shining a flashlight in someone's face. Janus knew he was onto something. Indigo sat there, pondering, but not saying anything just yet.

"Indigo," Janus called to him, trying to break him out of his trance. He snapped out of it and turned his attention to Janus. "Why did you say 'red' like that?"

Indigo grinned. "Cause the red pill's only half the bargain. There's also the blue pill."

The blue pill?! Janus thought to himself. Shit, this is bigger than we thought. Indigo cut in on his silent consideration, as though he knew what was going through Janus' head.

"You said Irvine offered your friend the red pill? That's why he disappeared. The blue pill is for people that want to stay behind."

The look on Janus' face had what-the-fuck written all over it. Indigo seemed amused.

"Not to worry though," he continued. "You don't give a shit about what the pills do, you want to get in touch with the guy who's giving them out, correct?"

Janus nodded. Indigo was good for things like this. Through his large colorful family, he knew a lot of people.

"Yeah, I wanna see this guy. Can you set something up?"

"Oh, sure. I just need to make a few calls. Of course, there's the incentive I need to consider..."

"Yeah, you're worried about what you're getting out of it, I know." He reached into his jacket to grab something out, and a nearby King's Men member thought he was going for a weapon. When he moved in, Janus gave him a stare as he pulled out a small envelope, causing the gang member to stop in his tracks. It earned him a scolding look from Indigo, who motioned for him to get back in place with a simple tilt of his head. Janus placed the envelope down on the table before Indigo, who looked at it with curiosity.

"Inside the envelope you'll find some details on your father's agenda for the next week or so. Where he'll be, what he'll be up to, and when."

Indigo took the envelope with a smile, and nodded with a look of approval towards Janus. "Very good, you know what turns me on Janus. You'll get a call soon. Til next time."

"Right, thanks Indigo. Catch you later."

With that, Janus nodded to his host, got up from his seat, and made his way for the exit. When he stepped out, the Bouncer looked over at him as though he was wondering why that meeting went so fast. Janus smirked with a smart-ass smile. "Business as usual."

The Bouncer shrugged, and got back to his guard duty as Janus stepped into his car, turned on the ignition, and drove off.

"Nice work," he said as he looked at himself in the rear view mirror. "One step closer to Irvine."

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12-8-03

2:13PM

MCPD

Vince sat at his desk in his office again. He'd quit thinking of his dream experience and more about what it was that apparently got him into that situation: the Matrix. Accessing the FBI's database, since nothing could be found in the precinct's, he entered 'the Matrix' into the search field. The results that came up were interesting, enough to cause his eyebrows to raise. They were almost scary.

All cases and information with any mention of the term 'the Matrix' were all missing persons cases, the evidence of such mention of the Matrix found at the site of supposed kidnapping. None of them mentioned Irvine though. He tapped his fingers on his desk. Obviously, whatever this Matrix was, it was all related to people that turned up missing. Where did they go? He sat back at his chair and looked over at the shelves with all the binders on them and noticed a dictionary. He arched a brow, and pushed over in his swivel chair, grabbed the dictionary from the shelf, and rolled back over to his desk. Flipping through the pages, he looked up the word Matrix and read the following:

"ma·trix or ma·trix·es

A situation or surrounding substance within which something else originates, develops, or is contained: "Freedom of expression is the matrix, the indispensable condition, of nearly every form of freedom" (Benjamin N. Cardozo).

The womb.

Anatomy.

The formative cells or tissue of a fingernail, toenail, or tooth.

See ground substance.

Geology.

The solid matter in which a fossil or crystal is embedded.

Ground mass.

A mold or die.

The principal metal in an alloy, as the iron in steel.

A binding substance, as cement in concrete.

Mathematics. A rectangular array of numeric or algebraic quantities subject to mathematical operations.

Something resembling such an array, as in the regular formation of elements into columns and rows.

Computer Science. The network of intersections between input and output leads in a computer, functioning as an encoder or a decoder.

Printing.

A mold used in stereotyping and designed to receive positive impressions of type or illustrations from which metal plates can be cast. Also called mat2.

A metal plate used for casting typefaces.

An electroplated impression of a phonograph record used to make duplicate records."

Shaking his head, he couldn't make any sense of it. He put down the dictionary and asked himself again, What is the Matrix? His phone rang. He picked it up and put it up to his ear.

"Detective Vince Burnett."

"Is this Janus?" A mysterious voice asked over the phone. He recognized the voice. However, he wasn't sure.

"Who is this?"

"You already know who I am, Janus. You wanted to meet?"

"Irvine."

"Yeah. You must be saying to yourself, 'I finally come into contact with this bastard', hm? You've been searching for me for over a year now."

Vince looked over to Howard's office, and all around the floor, looking for someone to help him get a trace on Irvine's location. "How'd you get this number?"

"Don't bother trying to record and trace this phone call, you won't find me. I'm far beyond your reach, but if things turn out right, it won't stay that way for too much longer."

He looked around, trying to see if anyone was watching him and pranking his phone. Seeing no one, he went over to his window and looked out. Hundreds of windows from dozens of buildings. He could be anywhere.

"I'm not outside either. The question of why or how I can see what you're doing, or how I know your 'real' name is probably driving you crazy, but we both know that there's another question driving you even more crazy."

"What?"

"You know what the question is, Janus. But you've been bugged, and that unfortunately cuts our time short. I'll be in touch."

"But wait a minute!"

"I can't afford to, always been short on time to begin with."

The line went dead. He took the phone from his head and looked at it before placing it back upon the receiver. He sat back in his chair and tried to make sense of what just happened. He'd actually spoken to the guy, who somehow knew exactly what he was doing and thinking. He didn't get it. What the fuck was that?

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